Galore
by Donkerblauw Fluweel
Summary: 1817: Gregory Fitzwilliam finds out that not all is easy when you are rich and have an estate. Because suddenly he is forced to make a choice between his good name and his gold...or the love of a man he never intended to fall in love with at all. AU - Gregstophe -
1. A lot of horses

**Hello all! Welcome to my first AU fic ever :) It takes place in the early 1800's in England. I've tried to keep this accurate and I hope that you let the little things slide, it's just a story of course.**

**Smutty and a bit dark, I hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave a little comment when you've read it. There are more chapters and it would be good to know if you'd like to read those too.**

**A lot of horses**

"Sometimes we don't see things, even when they are right in front of us." I hated that cliche line, so often quoted by people who pretended to read. I hated it even more when I realized how true it was.

I hadn't noticed him the first time we met, as I never did with any people from the housing staff. I had simply handed my horse's reins to some stable guy, only to find out later that that person had been him. I had not given him a second glance at the moment.

Soon I realized how strange that had been: Because the second time I saw him I couldn't possibly stop looking at him.

My upbringing and my status didn't allow me to pay a lot of attention to people of my staff, so I never did. The only person I did talk to was Craig, who took care of my estate while I was gone. And I was gone a lot. I didn't particularly like my job but I threw myself head-first into work nonetheless. It was a great way of not having to speak to my parents, so I had a lot of business meetings and books to read regarding my work. But when I didn't work or read I could feel quite lonely. Especially the winter months were dreadful: cold, windy and dark.

It was always with great relief that I saw the trees turn green and the heavy, weary months of winter pass into the unsure start of spring. I always took the whole summer off, instead opting to either go travelling or stay at home and read and get invited to a few balls. Rich people were always very welcome guests at balls and banquets and I was no exception.

I didn't need to travel though, to enjoy summer. My grounds were big enough for me to appreciate the summer months as well. I could go hunting, invite friends over for some card games or do what I liked the most: just riding over my lands on one of my horses.

A great way of living yes, but also one with a lot of responsibilities. My parents made it known, on every possible occasion, that I should take a wife and have children. But I loved my free life too much to make such a major change in my life just yet.

I preferred hanging out with my upper-class friends and read books in my spare time. Even when all the friends I had were very much upper-class and practically royal themselves. I barely had any contact with the common man, and I preferred it that way.

Who was I to know that that contact would be forced upon me very soon and in a way that I couldn't deny.

**XXX**

It was the first day of spring when I had gone for a ride over my lands. I loved trotting slowly through the woods or galloping over the fields. As long as I was outside, under the sun, I felt happy and free. Free of all my responsibilities.  
I returned to my mansion after a long morning of riding and had given my horse to some stable boy. I decided to walk around the back of my mansion and I could see Stan, one of my neighbors, leaning on the fence of one of my fields.  
I had known Stan for a long time. We had not gotten along very well in the past, but adulthood had brought peace to our lives and into our relationship. He was one of the poorest people I knew, which still meant that he was pretty rich. Some people considered it imprudent that I was friends with someone in a bit of a lower class than my own. I loved this little bit of rebelliousness that I had.

Stan often came up to my lands to play some card games or to ride out together. We still quarreled often, but not with the usual venom we had had in our younger years.  
Right now he was leaning against the fence and looking at the horses on the field with a frown on his face. I trotted up to him and dismounted.

"What's the matter?" I inquired Stan as I approached the fence.

"Ah, good afternoon, Gregory. Nothing much. The stable guy is trying to separate these horses and I'm watching. It's rather amusing to see." He indicated towards the field where a brown haired man was trying to pull away Henry from Oliver, two of my favorite horses.  
I had never seen this man before, or so I thought. He wore a simple shirt that didn't hide his strong, muscled arms in the slightest and showed his tanned skin. His brown hair was a mess and his eyes a stunning green even visible from this distance. I had never seen such a man. All the man I knew were delicate, pale and sophisticated. He looked rugged, wild and nearly feral.

Stan and I continued our polite conversation, all the while watching as the man tried to persuade Henry to come with him.

The stable guy had finally moved Henry away and petted him on the neck as he murmured. The act surprisingly gentle for such a rugged man. He tried to lead the horse away but he was only about halfway towards the stables when it broke lose and galloped back to Oliver. He looked after him and then shrugged before coming our way.

When he was level with us I noticed how sweaty his brow and arms looked. I could smell it too. And instead of it making me nauseous I found myself enjoying the smell. Stan frowned as we our conversation was interrupted by someone from the staff.

"I've been trying to do eet for days but I can not do eet." His heavy French accent was like the strike of a hammer and I felt myself momentarily speechless. For some reason it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard in my life.

"Excuse me?" Stan said with a frown.

"Ze horses, I can not separate zem and get zem to mate with ze mares."

"Why on earth not?" Stan demanded. The man's eyes shifted to mine and their green intensity seared right through me. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Why not?" I demanded, echoing Stan.

"Zey do not like ze mares."

"What?" Stan asked stunned.

"Zey do not want to be separated. Zey only want to be wiz each other." Something about his tone was off.

"You mean, romantically?" I tried, surprised.

"Eet's only natural." He said, shrugging.

"No, it's not! It's disgusting!" Stan said with a frown.

"You see eet all over nature." His eyes locked with mine and it wasn't until much later that I realized he had seen through me back then already.

Craig, my housekeeper, came up to us, fixing the stable boy with a glare, obviously wanting him gone. The stable boy just looked back, his dark green eyes daring him to sent him away. Craig never backed down from a glare.

"Christophe, go get the horses from the ladies at the gate."

The stable boy, Christophe apparently, made a slight bow before walking away. The muscles in his back moved under his shirt as he walked away. I quickly averted my eyes from him.

"That's why I came here." Craig said. "Miss Testaburger is here with some friends."

"Wendy?" Stan said, enthusiastically. I was less happy, however. Wendy was a wonderful girl, her friends however could be quite dreadful.

"Let's go to them then." I sighed. The three of us walked back towards my mansion. I looked back one more time to see Henry and Oliver once again side by side. I shook my head and followed the others inside.

**XXX**

Wendy was charming as ever. I loved talking to her, she was one of the few women I found tolerable. She was intelligent and sweet but with a wit not unlike my own. I knew Stan liked her too, but for some reason she was always drawn to me. A lot of women were. It seemed as if I understood them and they understood me. I had never known why I had this connection with them. But I never questioned it, I just talked with them and laughed at their jokes.

I knew Stan was pining after Wendy. He had always been drawn to her that way. But he had a lot less money than she had and asking her to marry him would be considered highly inappropriate. Instead he always talked a lot to Wendy's loud friend Bebe. All the while giving Wendy looks of longing that only I seemed to see.  
But he was a good looking man, his dark hair sleek and thick and he had one of the most charming smiles I had ever seen. Yet, proposing to Bebe might not be a good idea. Her whorish tendencies were wildly known all throughout Northern England and the match might not be looked favorably upon by his parents.

Their other friend, Rebecca, was rather shy and I found myself talking and laughing with Wendy most of all. I knew my parents wanted me to marry and have children. I also knew that they found that Wendy would be very suitable. But something inside of me was restraining me from proposing to her.

I didn't know what that was.

We said goodbye to them after an hour or two and I talked to Wendy as Christophe got their horses. I watched the three of them ride off, laughing together and looking really happy. When I turned I noticed that Christophe was still there. He fixed me with a look that I found quite rude, like I was some joke he was really enjoying, before he went inside the stables.

I stared after him for quite some time.

**XXX**

I often took my favorite horse, Teddy, for a tour over my lands. I loved galloping over the fields or through the apple orchard. The sweet smell of the apple blossoms took my mind of things and relaxed my greatly.

I was just riding back after a particularly long ride when I decided to go past the little pond near my house, just behind the stables. As I rode through the trees I noticed someone in the water. Someone was swimming? How odd.

I slowed down and dismounted, leading the horse through the trees to get a better look at this person that was swimming in my pond. I hid behind a few bushes and looked towards the pond. It was the stable guy, Christophe. But he wasn't swimming, he was bathing.

Of course, I had seen other men naked, though not very often and certainly not recently. And I had, most certainly, never seen a specimen quite as handsome as him. He was very muscled, and toned, nearly dark skinned from his work outside. His muscled back moved gracefully as he bent down to scoop up more water to rinse his shoulders and arms. And once clean, those arms showed flowing, smooth muscles. I swallowed when I noticed how the vision of that naked man bathing made my temperature rise.

Higher and higher.

I had never had such a reaction with anything or anyone. Not even running into Bebe while she was changing had had me this hot and bothered. For some reason, the vision of this naked man had me standing stock still as if hypnotized.  
I swallowed again as his hands moved over his chest and swept through his chest hair. My own chest hair was pretty scarce and I found myself wondering what it would feel like to touch it like that: running my fingers through it and tracing the, no doubt, very warm skin underneath. My eyes widened as his hands moved over his own waist, cleaning his sides before dipping lower and into the water.

His mouth opened in a quite, content sigh and I felt all blood rush to my head as I realized what he must be doing at that very moment. And I was right. I could see his right arm moving slow and steady and he closed his eyes slowly, as if he was slipping into a content sleep.  
He picked up his pace just slightly and I felt my blush spread towards my chest, a horrifying tell tale hardness in my own slacks. And as he let his free hand trail over his chest I felt an incredible urge in me urge to touch myself too. But I was terrified at that moment that I would make a sound and have him catch me doing it.

And just the thought: touching myself while watching another man do the same was just wrong in my eyes. These types of feelings were reserved for women, in marriage not for another man.  
Not even when that man was ruggedly handsome, not fragile or feminine as the other aristocratic men I know. Like myself. His hands moved over his chest again and I wanted to know how those muscles would feel under my own hands.  
Not even, I reminded myself as I barely bit back a moan, when that man made me hornier than any woman could have ever accomplished.

I knew I was breathing just slightly harder and that I was sweating profusely. But how could I not? It was all I could do not to touch myself or worse, run over to him and touch _him_. That forbidden thought was quickly banned from my mind.  
He moaned louder now and I saw his shoulders tense up.

Oh sweet Lord, he was going to come.

Part of me wanted to run away and the other part wanted to stay and watch. I had never seen another man orgasm and I was terribly curious to find out what it would look like.  
Of course, the perverted part of my brain won. I could not properly see what he was doing, since he was turned slightly away from me and hiding the lower part of his body in the water so that I could not see how he was touching himself.  
But my mind, my perverted mind, gave me a lot of images as to how that would look. The swift movements of his wrist, his fingers gripping himself tightly. I took a breath to calm myself, so that I wouldn't come into my slacks right there and then.

And Christophe moaned quietly with me, echoing my sound of slight despair that was quietly escaping my lips. And then he steadily became louder until he came with a loud groan. His movements continuing in a slow rhythm and I knew he was riding out his orgasm completely, the thought even more erotic perhaps than him touching himself.

He sighed and withdrew his hand from under the water, moving to clean it in the stream. With a shock I realized he must be coming out of the water soon. And although I wanted to see more of him, the thought of getting caught was more mortifying than my guilty pleasure. With as little noise as possible I moved away from the line of the trees and onto the path. I grabbed the reins of Teddy and walked away quickly. My pace speeding up with every pace I took.

And when I remembered his dark brown hair and strong jaw I broke into a run, determined to run away from that man that drove me to sin.

**TBC**


	2. A lot of books

**Thank you all so much for your reviews and favorites/follows! It's good to know that you like it. And, as promised, another chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one as well!**

**A lot of books**

I wasn't quite myself after that one afternoon. I buried myself in my books and going to dances or banquets the weeks after I had encountered the stable boy bathing in my pond.

Whenever I had too much time I found myself thinking of a tanned body, a muscled back and a handsome face. Dangerous, stupid thoughts in my opinion. Thoughts that needed to be banned from my mind, and quickly. Impure desires, sinful fantasies: No. Just no. It was wrong. Wrong that I should want to encounter him again. Wrong that I kept thinking about his body. Wrong that I desired him so much.

I exhausted myself, trying to drown my thoughts in extensive debates with my neighbors during card games or staying at parties until everybody was leaving before finally going home myself. All my free time was spent in the library. After three weeks I had pretty much read all my books and I got desperate: I needed things to occupy my mind with! Anything to steer away my thoughts from my impure desires. I decided to order new books to keep myself occupied, meanwhile I kept myself busy with my social life.

I visited Wendy on her estate quite often as well, in the desperate attempt to get away from my own thoughts. I had never felt so distressed and it was making me itchy and on edge. Wendy managed to make me calmer, however, and her sharp mind and quick with helped me forget a lot of things.

After a long day of drinking tea with her and discussing current events I rode home. It was already late in the evening when I finally returned to my mansion. Tired, I walked into my rooms and I was unhappily startled by something I found there: a servant in one of my chairs. I could just make out his form as the light of the fire was blinding me slightly.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, baffled at the sight. The rudeness of it beyond any I had ever seen. _Never_ had a servant sat down in one of my rooms. I walked towards him, wanting to shout at him in anger, but I nearly tripped over my own feet when I saw the messy brown hair and the muscled arms that were quite visible through the white shirt.

Christophe looked at me calmly and replied:

"Zey sent me 'ere." He held up a parcel. "All ze other servants are busy and zey sent me to bring you zis." He got up from the chair and stood there waiting for me with the brown-papered package in his hands.

I walked up to him and that's what I realized what it must be, the books I had ordered. I was happy, I was finally able to read more. I tried to focus on that, not his soft, flowing voice or his strong masculine scent that was suddenly all around me.

"Ah, my books. Splendid." I took it from him and immediately ripped off the paper. Christophe looked at the book at the top of the pile and said:

"Good choice." That surprised me.

"You can read?" Our eyes met and it looked as if he wanted to slap me in the face and was barely restraining himself.

"Yes, sir. I can read. I'm not a savage." He said in a tight voice. His furious eyes never leaving mine. I quirked an eyebrow at him. The desire to taunt him rose up in me.

"Well, sometimes you appear like one, the way you run around with the horses. So I couldn't know."

He shrugged.

"Perhaps. You uptight Brits always make assumptions." My eyes widened in shock. Normally, I would get furious over such a remark and have him fired. I wanted obedience and complaisance from my servants. But the glint in his eye made it clear that he was partially joking and I could tell he was daring me to do something about it.

"You better put me wrong then." I thrust the book into his hands and put the rest of the books onto my desk.

"Read me your favorite part." I ordered. He accepted the book from me and leafed through the pages. He looked surprisingly handsome, holding a book and his eyes darting over the pages.

"Ah, 'ere eet ees." And he started to read. I didn't even fully hear what he said. His voice was warm and smooth, his accent clear but only adding to the sensation of hearing him read out loud. I felt myself staring at his lips as they formed the words. And when he licked his lips I nearly sagged to my knees. It was the most erotic sight I had ever seen. He stopped speaking and I looked up into his eyes.

"Zere." He handed me the book. "You believe me now?"

"Yes." I said quickly. "You, I-." I stuttered and he raised his eyebrows, the glint sparkling ever clearer in his eyes.

"Do you read a lot?" What I had actually wanted to say was more like: you have a wonderful voice, I could listen to it all day. But of course, saying that was out of the question.

"I used to, yes." He didn't seem very talkative, almost polite, but I wanted to know more about him. This man, that had appeared like such a wild and untamed person actually _read_ and not just any books but literature! So I found myself asking him more and more.

"What kind of books did you read?"

"All sorts."

"History novels?"

"Yes."

"Plays?"

"Yes."

"Poems?"

"_Yes._" He waved his hand. "I said: all sorts." But he seemed rather amused at my interest in him.

"Why don't you read anymore?"

"I don not 'ave ze time. And I don not 'ave ze money to buy books."

"You could borrow one of mine." I said, and added: "As long as you are _extremely_ careful with them. I don't want your brusque hands ruining them forever." He looked at me surprised.

"Thank you sir. Zat would be wonderful." I smiled and put the book down.

"Is there anything you would like to read?" I said as I walked towards the wall behind my desk that was basically one big bookcase.

"Not zat I can think of now. Ees zere anything you can recommend?"

"Hm..." I simply said, eyeing my bookcase. He moved to stand next to me. He extracted his hand, trailing his fingers over a few of the spines. His big, tanned fingers moving almost lovingly over them. I swallowed as I felt a part of me stir at the sight.

"I 'ave always liked classical works. But I 'ave never read "Arabian Nights", ees eet any good?" Carefully, he removed the book from its shelf.

"It's quite wonderful, but quite controversial as well." I said enthusiastically as I moved closer. His scent snuck up on me and I had to control myself not to lean against him.

"Some things, like Iliad, are a bit 'ard to start." He mumbled. "I didn't find eet interesting in ze beginning at all." A rush surged through me at that.

"Oh Lord, I had the exact same thing!" We looked at each other. A look of pleasant surprise on his face.

"Really, sir?"

"Yes! People always look at me like I am some sort of barbarian when I tell them that."

"Welcome to ze club, people look at me like zat all ze time." We both laughed.

**XXX**

I was happier, the coming days. More at rest and more peaceful. Part of me knew why that was, but it was overshadowed by the other part of me. My dignity and my strong will forbidding me to think of that man that had proven to not only be a wonderfully handsome man, but also to be educated and more intellectual than I cared to admit.

But I seemed out of control of myself somehow. And a few days later I went to the stables to go for a ride, full well knowing he would be there during that time of the day. But I wanted to go for a ride desperately. I had denied myself that pleasure in fear of seeing him again, but now I could no longer deny myself that.

I saw his muscular form immediately when I entered the stables. He was sorting through some tools and looked up as I walked towards him. He smiled just slightly and I felt myself tingle with quiet pleasure at how beautiful it made him look. I tried masking my happiness by asked him about the book. But I was indeed very curious to hear his opinion. He walked away from the table towards one of the stables, getting one of my horses for me.

"Zose Arab bastards are all very much ze pervert." He replied, almost solemnly, at my question. I laughed and clapped him on the back, delighted to have an excuse to touch him.

"Yes, you are absolutely right about that! That is why it is so controversial." He grinned as he handed me the reins of Jasmine.

"I 'ave nearly finished eet zough, you will 'ave eet back soon."

"Don't worry about it." I said as I mounted Jasmine.

I felt so joyous as I rode through the fields. And it had nothing to do with the greenness of the hills or the loveliness of the weather I knew.

I kept coming back to the stables, lending him more and more of my books. He read them all and often I would find him, under the shadow of a nearby tree, reading one of them. He would get up hurriedly and get me my horse. But when he did that we had endless discussions about the books, the horses quite forgotten. We talked about the characters, the plot, the scenery or hidden messages. My friends and family all read books, but their opinions were all very much correct and carefully worded.

His comments, however, were crude and direct. He could describe plot twists as 'absolute rubbish' or 'weird and unnecessary.' I knew he would use much harsher words, had I not been his superior.  
His direct approach of the books, and the rest of the world and life, kept me coming back to him time and time again. I felt enticed by such a man that could describe a classic novel as 'pure evil, I wanted to rip eet apart after finishing eet.' or as 'Absolute gold, if I were a woman I would have cried'. And yet he had a soft side, taking care of the horses with so much love that at times I felt nearly jealous of them.

And after a while, when I found him outside once more, I joined him, sitting down next to him. We would discuss the book he was currently reading and we would analyze the plot, the characters or the style of writing. Sometimes he would read to me as I lay back in the grass, his soothing voice soft in the hot summer air. I knew it was dangerous if someone were to find us. An upper class man and a stable boy socializing like that would be found odd, at the very least. But we were never caught.

**XXX**

I soon realized I was entering very dangerous territory. Very dangerous indeed. It was more than just a physical abnormality. I liked spending time with him way too much. I realized I was abandoning my responsibilities and friends to be able to see him. And when I spent that time with him I became enticed with his intelligence, his wit and also his appearance.

Sometimes I could find myself staring at his strong and tan arms or his wild brown hair. I kept wondering how he looked underneath those clothes from up close. And what it would feel like to have those hands run over my body, sliding from my shoulders down my back. Never had I had such feelings for a woman. And it made me panic whenever I was alone and thinking about my future.

There was no place in my life for feelings like this. I was upper class, I was destined to be with a woman. The shame I would bring over my family were I to chose for a life like this was enormous, nearly incomprehensible. Of course, I had heard about men loving other men. But they were shunned, put to trial and banished.

Sodomites.

The shame of it was so big that there was a taboo on it, people didn't talk about it at all. I didn't even know what those men _did_ when they were together. But I didn't even need to know, the mere thought of Christophe kissing me was sometimes even enough to get me hard during dinner.

But shame or no shame, I couldn't be stopped from coming back to the stables over and over. Even when I had been to town for business I didn't even go to my rooms, instead I would turn towards the east side of my lands.

I should have known that my happiness was short lived. After a particular long business meeting I went to the stables, enjoying the afternoon sun and hoping to be able to enjoy it lying in the sun and reading with Christophe. I was slightly surprised why I wasn't greeted by him when I walked up to the door. I had rather hoped to encounter Christophe once more. I did encounter him, however, not in the way I had wanted to.

As I turned a corner in the stables I found him. Pressing a red-headed boy against the wall and kissing him with a passion and a desperation that was devastating to me. They were both in partial state of undress and Christophe's hands were disappearing underneath the boy's shirt.  
The redhead had his head thrown back, ecstasy written all over his face. Anger flared up in me and I slammed my fist into the wall, startling them both. They turned to me, and had I not been so furious and sad I would have found their expressions quite priceless.

"What on earth is the meaning of this?" I barked in the strongest voice I could muster.

"N-nothing sir." The ginger managed in a squeaky voice as he tried to redo his shirt.

"It- it won't happen again." He finished.

"I should think not." I snapped.

"Out!" I pointed to the red-head and made a sweeping motion with my hand towards the door.

"You." I barked at Christophe as the boy was hastily running away. "Get my horse."

He didn't speak to me, and I was also silent. Furious, rejected, confused.  
He gave me an odd look before turning away from me and getting to work. As he handed me the reins I quickly made my exit. But I could find no pleasure in riding through the fields, the vision of Christophe touching that filthy redhead flashing before my eyes. And everywhere I looked, the deep green of the trees and the forests reminded me of Christophe's eyes.

**XXX**

I summoned him up to my rooms at 9PM. I still hadn't calmed down then but I knew I had to deal with him either way. Word couldn't spread about what he had done nor could word get out how I had reacted to it.  
I had already fired the red-head, paying him and sending him off of my property for good. The poor boy was in tears but I couldn't have him there any longer. If he and Christophe would be tempted again and they would get caught by someone else than myself things could get messy. They might hear that I had known all along.

And had not fired both of them.

Christophe stepped into my room, looking confident and slightly grouchy as always.

"You asked for me, sir?" He asked. His words were polite, as if we hadn't been nearly friends over the past weeks, and it made me even more furious.

"You know I have to fire you over what happened today." I said coldly. He just looked back as if I amused him in some way.

"Yes, I know."

"However." I sighed. "I value your company and your intelligence very much. I am willing to give you one more chance. One more! Do not put me to shame." I was shaking in grief, in utter shame and rejection. My emotions were overflowing, making my speech higher and more out of breath than usual.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He sounded as normal as ever.

"I'd hate to fire you over...something like that." I added, the comment quite unnecessary, for we both knew that.

"Yes, and zat would make you a bit of a hypocrite, wouldn't eet?" He smirked at the insinuation, not looking remotely shamed about it at all.

I knew what he was hinting at and it enraged me greatly. I felt trapped, figured out. As if he had known that our reading sessions meant more to me. And now he was throwing my abnormality in my face. Spreading out my vulnerability, my one weakness in front of us and mocking it completely. Like he had known all along and pitied me: the sad, upper class sodomite. He knew about my shame, my denial and found it funny and made it sound as if he wasn't planning on keeping it a secret at all.

That enraged me even more: The fact that he was nearly hinting at exposing me. I turned white in anger before wheeling around to face him.

"How dare you." I hissed. No one insinuated that I was a sodomite, especially not a mere servant. All my British upper class pride reared up in me and at that moment he was to me nothing more than a simple working man. A despicable being.

"Out! Get out now!" I pointed to the door. He just smirked before moving outside.


	3. A lot of fires

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**I believe there was a request for more French nudity...is British nudity okay, too?**

**A lot of fires**

It tried avoiding Christophe at all cost that week. But I had the feeling he was purposefully looking for me and I started to feel hunted in my own house. I started to sneak into the stables and get a horse. Having also finished my new books I was running out of things to do. And even so, the books reminded me too much of Christophe and our reading sessions. But so did the horses and the woods. _Everything_ reminded me of Christophe and his strong character, his beautiful eyes, his attractive face. I had dreams about him. Crude, sexual dreams, where he would push me down onto the stable floor and claim my mouth in a hot kiss, his warm hands roaming over my body.

It made coming into the stables even more difficult, but I did it anyway. Sneaking in stealthily I would get a horse and take off. Sometimes I drove to the city to surprise business associates or go to parties with Wendy or Stan. Sometimes I just took long rides with Teddy, wandering off further than I had ever before, in a desperate attempt to clear my mind. But I was restless and couldn't find my peace of mind anywhere.

One day I went particularly far as I wasn't paying any attention to my surroundings, too caught up in my thought about Christophe and what he had insinuated about me that one night. I was wondering what had given me away. Was it my interest in his opinion about the books? Should I not be so interested in one of my servants? Or perhaps it would also have been suspicious had he been of my own class? I didn't know.

The rain completely surprised me, therefore, coming out of nowhere and soaking me and Teddy to the bone almost instantly. I was far away from home and it would take at least another hour before I would even see the mansion. I knew speeding up would be dangerous now, the wet ground slippery and a nasty fall was just around the corner.  
When I arrived at the manor I was shivering and cold, my fingers like ice as I held the reigns. A blond stable boy came up to me quickly to help me. With some disappointment I saw it wasn't Christophe, then I remembered it was him I was running from in the first place. But I missed him though, I missed him so much.  
I dismounted and said I would take care of the horse myself, scared to find Christophe inside but my morbid curiosity making me say the words anyway. The cold rain made me lose some of my anger and aggression towards Christophe. Christophe wasn't inside, however, and I dried and fed Teddy with a slight sigh. I had only caught glimpses of him for the past days, watching from my window as he led some horses towards the fields or doing some chores around the grounds.

I felt guilty for spying on him like that. But I needed to see him, see some of him. I also felt guilty about avoiding him. I knew he knew I was avoiding him. And whenever I saw him walk outside I could tell my avoiding him made him angry. But _why_ it made him angry, I did not know.

Craig came walking up to me quickly as I was just giving Teddy some hay, startling me from my musings.

"Sir!" He exclaimed as he jogged inside, a frown on his face. "I just ran into one of the stable boys, didn't he offer to clean your horse? I will have a word with-"

"Oh no, quite the contrary, I wanted to do it myself."

"Well, you should go inside, you will catch a cold walking around in those clothes for much longer."

"I think I know how to take care of myself, thank you very much." I said in a stern voice, not hiding my indignation at being scolded like that.

"Very well sir. Just letting you know I already sent someone to your room to light the fire and make some tea. So that you will be comfortable there."

I sighed and petted Teddy one last time. I was cold to the bone, it would be a good thing to get into some warmth. I walked inside, the cold halls a big contrast to the warmth of the stables. I entered my room and nearly wanted to shout out in indignation when I saw the houseboy had sat down in my comfortable chair near the fire.

Until I saw that that houseboy was Christophe. I froze with my hand on the door handle. He just stood up slowly, obviously_ still_ not knowing, or not caring about the big taboo on sitting in my chair. He looked good, there in my room. Hair a mess, his face dark with those big green eyes a light spark in it. And his muscled frame clearly visible through his shirt and trousers.

"Christophe!" I exclaimed in shock as he stepped away from the chair, stopping as he heard me say his first name.

For a moment we stood there watching each other. The tension between the two of us seemed to rise as the seconds ticked by and I was nearly afraid I couldn't handle it. I decided that I would act as if nothing had happened; I closed the door behind me and walked towards the fire, where he was standing. I tried to get out of my soaked coat and he walked up to me.

"Allow me, sir." He said meekly, his voice with an uncharacteristic softness in it.

He had already crossed the room towards me and helped me out of my coat, hanging it carefully over the back of the nearby chair. He returned to me, an odd look in his eyes. He raised his hands and removed my scarf, draping it over the back off the chair as well. Getting undressed by him was strangely comforting and sweet. His smell of dirt and horses wafted over me and it was unreasonably arousing.  
He handed me a fluffy towel and a warm bathrobe before disappearing from the room. Obviously he gave me some private time to change. I did so in front of the fire, toweling myself dry and wrapping myself in the warm bathrobe. I hung my wet clothes on a rack near the fire and sat down in my comfortable arm chair. All the while determined to not allow my thoughts to drift to Christophe. I put my head against the head rest of the chair and let my eyes slip close for a moment.

The clink of ceramic landing on wood startled me from my sleep. Christophe had returned with a pot of tea and a cup and he had put it on the table next to my chair.

"Sorry for waking you sir." He was as polite as he could muster, clearly still angry or expecting me to be angry. But my anger had somewhat disappeared at his careful treatment and I could still not identify the reason of _his _anger.

"That's okay, thank you for the tea." I said, smiling softly.

Already, I felt better after having gotten rid off my wet clothing and having this spot near the fire. I took the cup of tea and took a small sip. He looked at my bare feet in front of the fire. They were still a bit clammy and wet from the rain and looked rather pale. He walked towards the fire and dropped to his knees.

I nearly dropped my tea when he grabbed one of my feet and started to rub it in his big hands. I had half a mind of asking him what the hell it was that he was doing but as all tension flood from my body I could only lie back and enjoy. I sat down my cup of tea and closed my eyes, letting him rub my foot warm and dry. He put it down onto the floor once it was warm and picked up the other, rubbing it too. I sighed contently as I felt his fingers dig into my skin and then sweep up to kneed the muscles on my ankles, making them loose and relaxed. He moved higher, massaging my calves.

My mind was marveling at how good he was at this and I had to stop myself from thinking about those fingers too much, lest I became aroused. Once the muscles of my calves were relaxed he moved higher still, carefully massaging my thighs. My attempts at not becoming aroused were futile and I tried to breathe evenly to make it go away.

But failing.

My bathrobe was only just hiding my aroused state and I panicked at him finding out. I had a feeling that he knew, however. And that he didn't care about my trepidation about it. His accusation of being a hypocrite still ringing in my ears. He had never denied what he was and he seemed perfectly at ease with it. Just as he was perfectly at ease with touching me so intensely like he was doing just then. His other hand came up too, sliding over my other knee and thigh. Without a second thought, I parted my knees and I felt him move closer. His hands sliding up closer and pushing away my bathrobe, exposing me completely.

I blushed deeply as I found myself more naked in front of another person than I had been in years. And I had definitely not been naked with another man kneeling between my legs. Nor had I been hard in front of another man. I felt his eyes on me, and it seemed as if he was taking in my naked form. I kept my eyes closed, too afraid to look at him. But he just moved his hands softly over my hips, tracing my hipbones.

I had the strange feeling and hope that he would move his hands to finally touch me where I was dying to be touched. Therefore, I moaned loudly in surprise and hot erotic arousal as not his hands, but his warm mouth closed over my hard cock.

I knew about this, yet I had never experienced it myself. The praise other men had had about it became suddenly very clear to me. It felt _amazing_. His mouth, hot and moist closing over me and his tongue swiping over the tip before sliding down. I was panting and gasping by the third time he moved down. I knew I wouldn't last very long. My desires finally coming true was simply too much. He sucked rather harshly, seemingly determined to get me desperate and he succeeded. I had never felt pleasure such as that and I moaned quietly, trying to keep silent. I dared to open my eyes just a bit, but the sight of his dark haired head in my lap was nearly too much.

"Oh God." I choked out. One of my hands found his hair, gripping it tightly. I marveled out how good his hair felt under my fingers. And without any warning I came, arching my back and moaning out loudly. His mouth stayed on me, sucking me completely dry. I panted and rested my head back as he put my robe over me again. Our eyes met and I felt more naked than before. It was like in a sense he was triumphing over me: I _had_ been a hypocrite. But he just grinned at me, in his usual manner. My hand slid to his shoulder and I pulled him towards me. He looked at me hungrily and I saw a very obvious bulge in his trousers, explaining his expression. I made him aroused, the thought made me shiver in excitement.

He moved in closer, leaning in, and I pulled him even closer. Our lips barely brushed as a loud knock sounded on the door.

"Mister Fitzwilliam?" Craig's voice came from the hallway.

We both froze, lips barely touching each other. Christophe sighed and drew away from me.

"In a minute!" I said, looking up at Christophe. He just smiled before standing up.

**XXX**

With shaking hands I made my way towards the stables the next morning. I had to go to town for business and I needed a horse. I had been up almost all night. The thoughts that I had tried to suppress no longer staid in the back of my head. I now knew for absolute sure why I never felt attracted to women, it was because I liked doing things with _men_. I realized with a terrifying certainty, that I really was a sodomite. The word made panic and I dare not even _think it. _But yet, having had another man's mouth on my cock quite certainly made me one.

Once I entered the stables I was truly shaking in nerves. Christophe came up to me out of nowhere, startling me and making me drop my gloves. He seemed perfectly normal but I was nearly in tremors at the sight of him. And as I looked at his face I remembered what that mouth was capable of and I started to feel hot all over.

"He's in the back, sir."

"Ah, okay." I followed him towards the back of the stables, but I soon realized Teddy wasn't there at all. I turned to Christophe and I was about to question him about it when he grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me with my front against the wall. I yelped in surprise but I was quickly silenced as I felt a hot mouth on my neck; kissing, licking and biting.  
I moaned as his hands drifted over my clothed chest and gripped me firmly, finding the contours of my body underneath. He tugged away my jacket and I gasped as he sucked on my exposed shoulder. I braced myself on the wall in front of me as he pressed up against me. His warm and firm body pushing against mine. I felt his erection press against my ass and instinctively I pushed back. He growled in my ear and one of his hands pushed into my slacks, gripping my erection. I gasped loudly as he started pumping me quickly.

"Oh yes. _Yes_!" I moaned, resting my head back against his shoulder. Desperate now that I had his hands on me again and I realized that it was all that I had wanted for that day. My desperation making me louder and louder but he seemed to enjoy that. He just grunted and moved his hand faster. I slumped against his chest as I felt my orgasm rush up on me.

"Oh, oh!" I gasped out. And I pressed back desperately before coming all over his hand and the wall in front of me. He kissed my neck one last time before tugging me back into my slacks. He stepped away from me and I turned around, blushing like mad. I was terrified to face him but his voice drew my attention to him.

"I have finished 'La Celestina', have you got another book for me?"

"Ah, yes, yes of course." I blushed still, as I smoothed my clothes. "You can come to my room tomorrow night to look for a new one."

He brought me my horse, smiling widely.

**XXX**

I was nervously waiting for Christophe to show up. I was pacing anxiously in my rooms, gripping my own hair. Twice. Twice now I had sinned. And not just any sin but a pure abomination. And yet...

I wanted to see him again. Do it again. Reciprocate. I had never been more in two minds about something than I had been about that. I felt sort of crazy, thoughts running through my mind at a thousand miles per minute. I could not see him any longer! It was clear that neither one of us had any self control when we were left alone. What did he even want from me? Was it that clear that I was desperate for him and did he just want to use that to his advantage? Perhaps it was best to just fire him. Yes, that was what I would when he finally came to my rooms. I'd would take back the book he had borrowed and-.

My thoughts were interrupted as I turned and nearly stumbled into Christophe's chest. He just looked down at me.

"I brought you your book."

"Ah, yes." I could hardly speak. This close he looked delicious and I wanted to devour him completely. He just looked at me as he lay the book down onto my desk, eyes never leaving mine. My gaze swept over his face. Up close I could really enjoy the intensity of the color of his eyes and his strong and handsome face. I licked my lips nervously as I looked at his mouth that was practically begging me to kiss. He moved a bit closer, his hand trailed over my arm softly.

I couldn't handle the tension any more and grabbed him by his shirt and pushed him down onto my chair. Before he could say anything I crawled into his lap and cupped his cheeks in my hands before leaning in and kissing him on the lips. He reciprocated immediately, kissing me back softly. I whimpered against his mouth as our tongues met. Never had I felt such intensity when kissing someone. I tried to move closer and he helped me by grabbing me by my sides and pulling me against his warm chest.

I completely lost myself in our kissing. And it wasn't until his hands moved down, to cup my ass that I finally tore my mouth away from his, moaning loudly. He grabbed me firmly and hitched me up, forcing our bodies to meet and our erection brushed each other through the fabric. I kissed him again, unable to be away from his lips.

"'ow long have you wanted to do zis?" He whispered against my lips with a slight smirk.

"Don't-." I moaned. Unable, unwilling to give him the truthful answer just yet. He seemed to accept that as an answer and kissed me back with more vigor. My hands finally found his body, and it was as strong and firm as I had imagined it. I felt his chest, his arms, his shoulders. But when I traced over his lower abdomen and I felt his breath hitch against my lips I hesitated. He broke our kiss to look at me. His lips were pink and swollen from our kissing and his hair was a mess. I knew I wasn't much better off.

He grabbed my hand while steadily looking at me and led it down and into his slacks. I trembled under his hand as he used his hand to wrap mine around his erection. He was hot and smooth and bigger than myself. Softly he started to move our hands up and down over his erection. Eyes never leaving each other. I felt a moan press over my own lips. I was so terribly aroused from touching him like that. His eyes closed and he hummed low in his throat. The sound made me bite my lip, to prevent myself from making more sounds.

With some hesitation I used my other hand to tug his slacks away so that I had better access. He moaned in approval and I couldn't help but moan back. He had his head tossed back and he was breathing rather quick. Except for that one time I had never seen another man aroused and it made me hot and sweaty and desperate for release. I looked down, to where my hand was moving and I swallowed down another ungodly sound as I saw his erection in my own hand. I realized at that very moment that I never, ever wanted to see a woman naked. His hands tugged me forward, forcing our lips to meet.

"You're doing really good." He breathed softly, nearly pleadingly. I blushed even more and I sped up, wanting to hear more of his beautiful noises.

"Go on, keep going." He moaned quietly. He buried his head in my shoulder and bit down harshly and groaned. I cried out in pain as he bit down and I felt him pulse in my hand and come over his own shirt. He gave me no time to enjoy my work because next thing I knew he had my trousers unbuttoned and his hand wrapped around my cock. His other hand behind my back as he pumped me harshly. I came within minutes. We both panted to catch our breath. I was afraid to look at him but he cupped my face into his dirty hands and forced me to look at him.

He was silent, so I spoke.

"Yes. I am a hypocrite."

**TBC...**


	4. A lot of love

**Thank you, thank you for your reviews! They made me really happy :D So therefore: a new chapter!**

**Someone said that the last chapter was very filthy:true. This one will be much the same, but! Also with a lot of feelings there and stress and panic...dun dun dun**

**A lot of love**

He came up to my rooms frequently after that. We would discuss books, current events, the weather, everything. Quite often he would read to me in my bed. I had never asked him for it but I knew he was aware of the fact that his voice turned me on greatly. Sometimes he would toss the book away and push me down, kissing me desperately. At other times he had barely made it through the door before I attacked his mouth with mine. Books completely forgotten.

I even dared to touch him when we were outside, under the trees. Though I never went any further than just kisses. And his kisses..

I could never get enough of them. They could be sweet and gentle, sometimes harsh and demanding, all consuming. But they always felt more important than the air that I needed to breathe.

And it was dangerous, so, so dangerous. If we were caught there would be absolutely no explaining. Getting caught reading together would be hard but I was sure I could make up an excuse for that, but being found with his mouth on mine as I lay back in the grass...

The mere thought gave me shudders and made me squirmish sometimes when he would gently push me down onto the warm grass outside of the stables, kissing me deeply. But all my concerns evaporated as his mouth found mine and I could only wrap my arms around his shoulders, allowing him to ravish my mouth completely.

One time, his hands slid over my shoulders before moving over my chest. I tried to shift away, not wanting him to venture any further. But he grinned against my mouth and slid his hand down further, trailing over my trousers. I broke our kiss and tried to push him away.

"Christophe, don't-." I saw him grin devilishly.

"Come on." He whispered, grinning down at me. "Enjoy life a leetle." His grin widened as he slowly slid his fingers over my trousers, feeling me erection underneath. I blushed deeply, still often ashamed about being aroused.

"I can feel you want to." He breathed out, before kissing me again. I moaned loudly against his mouth as he trailed his fingers over me teasingly, my hips bucking up on their own accord. It was slow and sweet and careful. He seemed to want to drive me crazy with soft touches and sweet kisses. I trembled and shuddered in a floating feeling of ecstasy and I couldn't handle the teasing any longer. I reached down, gripping my belt with shaking fingers and I tried to undo it, I wanted to feel his hands on me so badly. His mouth formed into a victorious grin against my lips.

His hand joined mine to help me, but suddenly he froze and moved away from me. He redid my belt and moved down my body, kneeling at me feet.

"What?" I whispered, still dazed as I could nearly feel his hands down my trousers. But he took one of my boots in his hands and grabbed a cloth from his pocket, wiping my shoe with it. Then I knew why he was doing what he did: footsteps.

Quickly, I grabbed the book I had brought with me and pretended to read. I bent one of my knees to hide the fact that I was still hard in my trousers.

So when Wendy and Stan came to join us all they saw was a wealthy person getting his shoes polished while reading a book.

"Good morning." I said lazily, looking up at them. Stan ignored Christophe's presence completely, not bothering about something as insignificant as a mere servant. And for the first time I was aware of how they saw him: as a being only worthy to serve the upper class. And nothing more. A being best off when it was being led and guided by someone intelligent from a higher class. I realized with a sickening feeling in my stomach that until recent I had seen him in the exact same way.

"Good morning." Wendy replied, cheerfully. Stan just nodded at me and smiled slightly. I knew why: he always figured that Wendy and I were too close and that I was a much better match for her. But I couldn't be bothered with Stan's jealousy at the moment, I was much more distracted by the way Christophe was _pretending_ to polish my shoes. The way he slowly slid his fingers over my ankles was certainly not a part of polishing shoes. Luckily Wendy continued talking.

"We just got back from Bebe's and she's having a party in a week. Of course, you are invited too and we figured we wanted to ask you right away." Stan's silence made it clear that that had been primarily Wendy's idea, though.

"Sounds splendid." I replied. "I'll be there." I didn't know whether I had to kick Christophe away or just fall back and moan out loudly. Wendy and Stan be damned. His fingers on my ankle, so soft and teasingly both tickled and aroused me and I realized I was still hypersensitive from our make out session from earlier.

"You'd have to bring a date, though." Stan said suddenly. "But you can't ask Wendy, I already asked Wendy." He looked a mixture of relieved and angry at that. As if I wanted to steal his date from him.

"That's quite all right. You two make a pretty couple." Wendy frowned, Stan smiled radiantly. "And I'm sure I can find myself another good woman to take along." But I didn't want to take another woman along, I wanted Christophe there. To laugh with him and joke. But I couldn't, there was just no way that I could.

"We'll leave you to your book, then." Stan said, tugging Wendy along with him. He could always be such a little child when it came to Wendy and me, always seeing me as competition when we were with just the three of us. But I really, really couldn't be bothered by that right now and just said goodbye to them as they walked away.

I dared to look down as they disappeared behind a line of trees. Christophe grinned up at me.

"You evil man." I whispered. He just grinned at me and slid his hands over my calves and higher. And all I could do as I saw the promising look on his face was part my legs willingly.

"Ah, but you enjoy eet." He grinned and he crawled over me, pressing his mouth to mine in a heated kiss. "Een fact, you enjoy eet so much..." Suddenly he reached down into my trousers, gripping me harshly. I whimpered and closed my eyes.

"Zat you are _still_ 'ard."

"No, I'm not." I contradicted, already panting softly as I felt his warm fingers on my length. "I'm- I'm aroused _again_ not _still_." I had to keep my dignity in some way. My initial defiance about getting touched outside the safety of my rooms was already bad enough. I had always had certain rules and boundaries, about how to behave and what to like and what not to like. And this was a very strong one of mine: no nudity in public. What if someone saw you?!

But by touching me so sweetly, and making it clear that he couldn't give two fucks about my hesitation he somehow managed to take away that boundary. Making me enjoy the moment, only thinking about him and us and the wonderful feelings that we were both feeling.

And it didn't take long, before he took away all my old boundaries.

A few days after our make out session it the woods, I found myself undressed in my rooms. He seemed to have anticipated that for that particular thing to happen again I'd have to be somewhere where I felt very comfortable. He had waited for me to return from a visit to Rebecca, and he had kissed me sweetly.

Instead of just pushing down my trousers and pleasuring me he seemed to take his time. Slowly taking off my shirt as he kissed my neck and shoulders. Letting it drop lightly on the floor before moving his hands lovingly over my back and chest. I could feel his appreciation in his touches. His appreciation for my trust in him and also, his appreciation for my body. I helped him get rid of the rest of my clothes, allowing him to touch me everywhere and look at every part of me. And I loved it.

I had always been rather sensitive and insecure about my body but his reaction to seeing me naked was highly flattering and endearing and I simply couldn't get enough of it.

And the first time I ever saw _him_ naked was something I am not likely to forget soon. We looked nothing alike naked. He was broad-shouldered, tanned and muscled. His chest and lower abdomen quite hairy whereas mine had nearly no hair. I was slender and pale but he seemed to love that. His hands were always everywhere when we were together. And mine were pretty much everywhere too.

Always after a lot of touching and kissing we would come into each other's mouth or hand. It had taken me great courage to finally kiss him between his legs. I was uncertain what I was being nervous about: that I would be bad? That I wouldn't like it? I didn't know. But I was very nervous nonetheless. Christophe guided me through the first bits, with a soft voice he told me how I should try to lick just the tip, move down more-. But his whispers ended in a groan as I moved down to take him in further. He didn't last very long.

**XXX**

One afternoon, after a long day of talking and reading we had ended up on my bed once more, naked and grinding together. He lay on top of me and he ground down between my legs, that I had wrapped around his waist. We did a lot of this grinding before getting each other off. This time he was persistent however and he grabbed my hips and kept moving against me, moaning in my ear.

"I want..." He started, but he didn't finish his sentence.

"What, what is it you want?" I said, eager to give him all that he wanted. He just laughed breathlessly.

"Eesn't zat obvious?" I felt blood rush to my face.

"No, not exactly." He looked at me with a very confused look on his face. "I don't even know what it is that men do." I said with a furious blush on my face. He looked at me as if in pity before moving off of me.

"Come here." His voice was surprisingly gentle as he lay down on his side and petted the space next to him. Curious, I turned onto my side, facing him.

"No, ze other way around." I turned and he pulled me towards him and kissed my neck. I was still curious as to what was going on and I knew he noticed.

"You really don't know? What men do?"

"I, well... no. I've heard some things but I don't think they are correct." I felt him smile against my neck.

"I can show you some of eet. One of my favorite things and something zat I think you will like very much." He reached over me to grab his trousers. He pulled out a jar of petroleum jelly. I looked in wonder as he opened it and covered two of his fingers in the substance.

"Bent your knees." He breathed in my neck, his voice heavy in arousal. I did as he told me and I felt his hand return to my body, his fingers slick with the vaseline.

"Men, some men, zey penetrate ze other." I felt heat pour in my face.

"But how? Where?" I whispered softly.

He didn't answer. Instead he trailed his slicked-up fingers down my back, over my ass. Before stroking me over my opening. I swallowed as it dawned on me.

"There?" I breathed in question.

"Yes." He whispered back.

"But, but that must be-." Hurtful, painful, weird, disgusting.

"Eet can be." He murmured in my ear as he continued to stroke me. "But when eet ees done properly eet doesn't hurt. When you are properly prepared eet feels amazing."

And he stroke me some more, sliding steadily more inside. I let out a muffled cry as he slid his fingers over me, my eyes closing. Already I felt what he meant, his fingers were warm and sent little shivers up and down my spine. Already, it felt amazing. But then he slid one of his fingers inside of me, completely throwing me off guard. I choked out a sound but didn't stop him as he withdrew his finger and then pushed it back in, picking up a very slow rhythm.

"Ah, like, like that." I said, trying to sound eloquent but my quivering voice not permitting me to do so.

"Yes, like zat." He echoed. He pushed into me harder and slightly faster. I lay like a puddle of pure pleasure in his arms, barely able to move and moaning constantly.

"Feels good, doesn't eet?" He whispered in my ear.

"Hm hm." I replied, not able to say much more.

"It can feel a lot better, even." He whispered.

"Wh-What?" I managed but then he pressed in deep, crooking his finger and hitting something.

"UGHN!" I groaned out as a hot jolt of pleasure shot through me. He thrust into me again, hitting that spot inside me again. I groaned again.

"Feels even better, doesn't eet?" He murmured cheekily in my ear. I couldn't reply, instead I gripped him harder. He seemed to understand and pushed in harder and I just lay against his chest, completely out of breath and devastated to be able to feel this much pleasure. He withdrew and pressed a second finger inside of me and I moaned loudly, pressing back against his fingers. It felt amazing, unlike anything I had ever felt before. The stretch and slight burn wonderful, the brushing against that spot making my mind reel in overwhelming ecstasy.

He growled in my ear as I pushed back, riding his fingers. His erection was pressing against my ass and I pushed back against it, feeling his breath hitch against my neck.

"Christophe." I chocked out. "Christophe, please." I was desperate to feel him, feel _all_ of him. To know that this was what men did and that _this_ already felt so good made my mind go insane with the thought of how it would feel if I permitted him to do that to me.

But he just kissed my neck harder, more desperately and whispered in my ear.

"No, not yet. You only just found out about eet. You can not ask zis of me."

"Yes, yes I can." I practically sobbed back, pushing back harder, curving my spine and forcing our bodies even more together.

"Please, take me." I whispered. Horrified to beg, desperate to get what I want. He groaned in my ear, rutting back against my ass.

"No, I can't do zat. You're a man of class." He hissed, even as he ground against my ass, his fingers sliding in faster and deeper.

"You don't want a lower class man defiling you like zat." His breath so hot on my skin, his sweaty chest against my back. I wanted to reply but the pleasure was sweeping over me, making me speechless, safe for my loud moans. My legs jerked and I bit the pillow under me to prevent myself from shouting as I came onto the sheets of my bed. I was completely spent but I turned over nonetheless, wanting to pleasure him and give him all he wanted.

"You really want to do that to me?" I whispered against his lips as I kissed him. Still somewhat shocked and highly flattered that a man could want me so desperately and so completely. He made me feel so desired and special. But I could hardly wait for his reply, kissing him harder and my hand finding his erection easily.

He groaned as I wrapped my hand around him. "I- _yes_. But not yet-." He was rapidly losing it, already so close from our grinding. "I thought you 'ad already-. I don't want to be ze first zat-." He could barely speak as I moved faster and he came with a groan, not finishing his sentence.

"But I do." I whispered softly, as he opened his eyes to look at me. "I want you to be my first, I love you so, so much." He seemed completely baffled at that confession.

"I love you too, mon cher." He finally said. I smiled widely and he smiled back. His love for me clear in his eyes.

For a moment, I was in peaceful bliss, ignoring the fact that love or not we could not be together. And I knew, deep down, that we were living on borrowed time.

**TBC...**


	5. A lot of women

**It's great to hear you are still enjoying this story :) Somehow, this story keeps expanding, I thought I had it finished but so many more ideas keep occurring to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**I'm just going to warn you all here: Smut, smut, smut! **

**A lot of women**

Bebe's party was enjoyable and it was obvious she had put a good amount of time in preparing it. There was plenty of food and drinks, good music and a lot of people from the nearby towns and further off. There were quite a few people there that I didn't know but I liked getting to know new people, finding that new insights were nice to hear. I knew that was all because of Christophe, before I knew him I was only interested in my own point of view.

I had dressed with care before going there, wanting to look absolutely perfect and handsome. I had asked Rebecca to come with me, even when I considered her too shy to be a proper date. She was charming and sweet, however, much more so when talking to Bebe.

Bebe, with her blond curls flowing over nearly bare shoulders, she was wearing a rather revealing dress, looked particularly inappropriate that night. But even Rebecca's charm and Wendy's sweetness of that night were nothing compared to the company that I was really missing. Of course, Christophe had no business being there, so he was still at my mansion. And I missed him greatly.

I'd have loved to have a few drinks with him and laugh at people's outfits or even dance together. Or simply just look at how pretty he would look in this beautiful lighting of the room, his dark hair looking soft in the glow of the candles and his eyes looking at me in his usual knowing and daring way. I was so hopelessly in love...

But no such things would have been possible. I did see him before I left, and it took me nearly 15 minutes to fix my outfit again. His hands went everywhere when he saw me in my fancy dress-up and he refused to stop until we were both grinding against each other and with my hand down his trousers. Suddenly, he pulled away.

"I will see you later tonight, non?" He had whispered, kissing me messily as I tried get into his trousers more properly, but he pulled my hand away.

"Yes, yes. Of course." I replied, trying hard to focus.

"Good. Keep zis mood for later zis night, zen. For when you come back."

"Why? We can finish now." I said, desperate and so aroused. But he stepped away, grinning at me.

"I'm afraid we can't, you 'ave to leave soon." I wasn't used to being disobeyed, so I pressed on.

"I can arrive a little late. Come here." I pulled him closer and we lost ourselves in our kissing once more. But when I tried to reach into his trousers again he stepped away.

"Later." He decided. "I will make eet worth your waiting." Then he really stepped away, getting me my horse.

I arrived at Rebecca's place right on time and just a little flustered, but she didn't seem to notice. As we drove away I could still hear Christophe's promise in my head, making it hard for me to focus on my conversation with Rebecca. But when we arrived at Bebe's place we were swept away by Wendy, Bebe and a bunch of other women who demanded our attention.

"Why yes, I've had had quite a few offers of dates for this night. But obviously I settled on the handsomest of them all." Bebe bragged loudly, clinging to the arm of some rugged-looking blond man I had never seen before. He flashed us all a rather provocative grin. Handsome: yes. But not classy at all. Stan seemed to enjoy talking with him though, laughing and joking with him. I went to have another glass of wine, leaving Rebecca to talk with Wendy and Bebe.  
I was joined by another man, rather fat and with suave brown hair, who grabbed a bottle of wine and refilled his glass rather sloppily.

"Bunch of assholes, aren't they." He motioned towards the crowd among Bebe. I was rather appalled at such language but I felt myself nodding slightly.

"Then can be a bit boorish, it's true." He nodded and took a big gulp of his glass. His eyes moved over the crowd, landing on a small blond man, who was giggling in a corner.

"Bye then." He said suddenly, moving away from me to stalk towards the blond man in a predatory way. I shook my head and went back to the group.

It was a very wild night: a lot of dancing and music. I could tell Stan was rather alarmingly drunk as he tried to flirt with Wendy in a disastrous way and she wouldn't have any of it. She came up to me and demanded in a harsh way:

"When you leave, please take me home. I don't want to be around Stan any longer." We had talked a lot that night, finding each other's intelligence and wit comforting in such company. Rebecca was enjoying herself with playing some pieces on the piano and was happily enjoying herself.

"Of course." I said grimly. "We could leave now, if you prefer?"

"Yes please." She smiled at me gratefully. I went to pick up Rebecca and we left soon after. After I had dropped them off at their houses I couldn't stop myself from riding home fast, desperate to get back to Christophe and I didn't have to wait long. When I arrived at the stables some other boy took care of my horse and I already knew why: Christophe was waiting for me in my rooms. I practically ran up the stairs, slamming the door behind me when I entered. And I wasn't disappointed.

His mouth was on me instantly, kissing me as if he were demanding me and I completely melted, submitting to him easily. I trembled in excitement as we disrobed each other carefully. There was something different about that night, I felt it in the way he touched me softly and pushed me down onto the bed. Hitching up my legs as I felt his hands roam down and cup my ass, desperate for him to touch me there, push his fingers into me.

After that one night, a few weeks back, he had used his fingers a lot. Often, after kissing and touching I was practically begging for it. And he always complied. Sometimes he rolled me onto my stomach and gave it to me hard and fast. At other times he was very careful, holding me to his chest as I panted and writhed in his arms.

I never let my desire to get him to make love to me go unnoticed, but he didn't give in. But that night there was something, some feeling underneath it all and I didn't press on, instead letting him settle the pace. I had one of my legs high over his waist as we lay facing each other on my bed. He was pushing three of his fingers inside of me and I was whimpering desperately, hiding my face in his shoulder.

Suddenly he rolled me onto my back and grabbed my leg with his free hand, pulling it up high. He moved between my legs and I realized what he was about to do. My breath hitched in nervousness and excitement.  
He must have realized for he kissed me over and over, distracting me from the fact that he was grinding down between my legs, promising what was ahead. He backed up and grabbed the petroleum jelly, spreading it over his large erection. I swallowed and tried to calm my nerves. He smiled and leaned down, kissing me more. His fingers prodded me once more, with more petroleum jelly, sliding into me. I moaned into our kiss and hitched my legs higher. With shaking hands I grabbed his hips to push him down.

He broke our kiss to look down on me. His hand moving into my knee, pushing my leg up further. Our eyes never leaving each other as he pressed himself into me. He was only half way before I started gasping in pain, digging my nails into his shoulders. He withdrew and I sighed in relief and in pleasure. It felt so much better than his fingers, bigger, intenser. And he pressed back in, further this time. And I groaned, falling back against the covers. He pressed his mouth to my neck before withdrawing once more, sending my body into tremors at the sensation. This time, when he pressed back in he didn't stop before he was fully inside me.

Tears were sliding down my face and I felt like a woman, with my legs spread like that and crying during the first time having sex. It wasn't just the pain that made me cry, it was also the immense intensity of it all. Christophe didn't move, he just kissed my neck, moving up to my face to kiss away my tears. As he kissed me over and over I felt my lower body relax, accommodating his girth.

Christophe moaned softly against my mouth as he started to twitch his hips with tentative movements. I gasped at the sensation, completely overwhelmed by this feeling. He kept his movements careful and slow, mindful of my vulnerability. I kept gasping as I felt him sliding slowly in and out of me, the intensity almost too much. And when his cock brushed that sensitive spot inside of me I moaned loudly, the sound spilling from my mouth without permission. I let my head fall back and Christophe's mouth moved to my neck again. He was panting and kissing my neck over and over.

He slid out nearly all the way before back in, his movements a bit faster and aiming for that spot the entire time. I moved back with him, and we worked up a rhythm. I was moaning constantly now, gasping and grasping his arms. I could feel them shaking under my fingers and I knew it was because he was holding back.

"You can- you can go faster." I moaned. But he just shook his head and I knew what he meant: he didn't want to hurt me. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and closed my eyes to fully enjoy this moment, this intensity, the pleasure. I was startled for a bit as I felt a soft kiss being pressed against my lips. I opened my eyes and looked into his darkened ones. I loved him very dearly in that moment.

"Oh, Christophe." I sighed.

"Hm, Gregory." He whispered back. My breathing hitched and my temperature rose. He had never called me by my first name before. He saw my shock and smiled, moving in just a bit faster.

"Oh yes." I moaned out. I started to pant and writhe and I knew my climax was not far away. He groaned and closed his eyes.

"Oh damn, Gregory."

I whimpered and contracted around him, feeling my orgasm approach rapidly. He moaned and one of his hands moved down to grasp my leaking erection. It was too much and he seemed to have anticipated that, stroking me fast and hitting that spot inside of me hard. I cried out, arching my back involuntarily. When I was completely spent he moved out of me. I was only surprised for a moment before I realized he didn't want to hurt me too much. He had told me that especially the first time you did this you could have a lot of pain the days after.

So I turned to my side to be able to grasp his erection and jerked him off. I moved my hand very fast, because I knew how much he had been holding back. With a load groan he came.

We lay there panting and looking at each other for some time. Then he drew me into his arms and I sighed happily, not minding our stickiness. He kissed me softly and I saw in his eyes that he was nervous. I let my fingers trail over his face and whispered:

"That was wonderful." He smiled and kissed my fingers as they moved over his lips.

"Good." He turned me around and I scooted back. I looked outside to where the trees were slowly turning into splendid shades of red and brown. Christophe curled up behind me and I sighed contently. I hadn't even realized that autumn was already coming our way. But I was glad, that when winter would come, I'd have Christophe there to keep me warm.

**XXX**

A message was delivered to me a few weeks later. My father was requesting to see me. I felt dread settle in my stomach. My relationship with my father was cold and distant. We treated each other very civilly, yes, but there was no affection there. Usually he only sent for me to talk about serious matters with me. I went to my parents mansion the next day. After spending some time with my mother, who I had always found more charming and agreeable than my father I went to his office.

We barely went through the usual questions before he came to the point:

"People are talking, my son, why you have not yet taken a wife." He fixed me with a glare.

"I know they are. I have not yet found the woman for me."

"I know you haven't. But you are the sole heir of this land, you should take your responsibility. There are plenty of nice, upper-class women around here. Take your pick."

I was silent. The fact that he had called me here to discuss this was quite distressing. Marriage. With a woman. I knew it was inevitable, yet I had tried to deny that fact for quite some time now. My father continued talking.

"In the end, your choice of wife isn't even that important. Men find enjoyment in other things, _women _want marriage and children. Once you have produced an heir you can go back to the real enjoyments in life: hunting, card games and business in the city, where if you want to, you can find other _easier_ women for your enjoyment."

I knew all about my father's enjoyments. The marriage between my parents was dreadful, they spent nearly no time together. My father was away all the time and my mother spent all her time with her friends. Sometimes I was wondering how the hell I was conceived.

"Surely, there must be one woman you have interest in marrying?"

My mind raced through the names of all the women I knew:

Bebe: too flirtatious, Rebecca: too shy, Ruby: too rude, Wendy..._Wendy_. She was the only woman I found tolerable. She was intelligent, funny...dark haired.

"Wendy." I repeated to my father. He nodded in appreciation. "Yes, she would be a fine woman to marry." He turned away from me to look out of the window.

"Propose to her, as soon as possible. I don't want to make up excuses for you any longer."

"Yes, sir." I left the room, not able to face my father any longer. I mounted my horse and rode away fast. In my hurry I didn't notice the thunderstorm gathering overhead.

The storm swept over me while I was still miles away from my mansion. The wind was so strong that I had to dismount and hide under a bunch of trees. The wind making the branches creek and fall off. The horse was panicking and I kept stroking her neck and murmuring soft words to her, hoping to calm her down. We were both soaked through and through. The rain beating down on us and the wind tugging at my clothes.

I was scared. The weather hadn't been this bad in months and mother nature seemed to make up for her months of rest by forcing everything out. After the rain came the hail and more thunder and I kept stroking my soaked horse. Praying to whatever God that was out there to get me out safely.

It seemed to go on for hours and when the rain started to lessen I let her out of the trees. I didn't dare to mount her, the ground was slippery and muddy and I walked the rest of the way home. Exhausted I led her into the stables where I was met by Craig.

"Sir!" He exclaimed. "We had not expected you so soon! Did you go through this weather?"

I just nodded.

"You are so reckless sometimes!" He sounded angry. "Let me take care of the horse. Go inside and try to get warm."

My normal defiance evaporated and I simply handed him the reigns and went inside. I took a long and hot bath and changed into fresh clothes. When I came back into my study I heard the door slam and Christophe walked in. I was so happy to see him. The thought of marriage was so terrible and his presence so soothing that I felt overcome with relief. But he appeared quite angry.

He walked up to me fast, with a crazed look on his face. I was about to say something but he interrupted me by slapping me in the face. Hard. The force of it had me staggering backwards.

"Wh-what?" I tried. But he came up to me and slapped me again, this time with the back of his hand and on the other cheek. Both of them tingled and turning warm. But I had barely time to contemplate that as he grabbed me my jacket and yanked me forward. Bruising my mouth with his as he kissed me feverishly and desperately. My lips throbbing from his punches and the force of his kiss.

"Damn you, I was so _worried_." He growled angrily against my mouth.

"Christophe." I said, as he kissed down my neck. "But it's okay, I'm safe now." His hands went to my belt, undoing it and pushing my slacks down. I was forceably turned around and pushed down onto my work desk.

But he didn't answer me. I heard some rummaging and I gasped as he pushed one of his fingers, slicked up, into me. He worked inside of me fast and urgent. I moaned into the desk. He jumped from one finger to three and I cried out at the tightness. He just grunted from behind me and kept pushing his fingers inside of me. I spread my legs more and gripped the desk. I was panting and sweating profusely already. Unbearably hard even when he hadn't even touched me yet. His fingers left and I heard him push his own trousers down. I tried to get up but one of his hands landed on my upper back and pushed me down. I felt his other hand guide himself into me and I gasped and writhed under him as I felt the burn race through my body. He kept me pinned down as he started to thrust into me hard, giving me nearly no time to adapt.

He brushed over that spot inside of me and I completely melted, lying boneless on my own desk. My breath was labored and hard and I could hear Christophe grunting behind me.

"You were so careless." He hissed, his voice low and dangerous. I wanted to apologize, but again, he gave me no chance as he smacked his hand onto my ass.

"Christophe!" I gasped out in shock.

"You could have died!" He growled. And he slapped me again. And again. The pain mixed with the harsh movements of his hips giving me such a heady rush of pleasure and pain that I was moaning unabashedly. I sobbed with ecstasy as I felt his cock move inside of me, hard, fast, deep. And his hand kept slapping me over and over. And I was sure I was about to come from it. I bucked back into his movements, even as he tried to keep me down.

Suddenly he pulled out and yanked me up and turned me around. I flinched, expecting another punch. But he did no such thing. He leaned in and kissed me. Really sweetly and I couldn't stop myself kissing him back with the same sentiment. He undressed me carefully before stepping out of his own clothes.

With a sigh he broke our kiss before pulling me along with him towards my bed. He sat down on it, his back against the head board and tugged me into his lap. I allowed him to position me over his cock but I felt nervousness bubble up in me nonetheless. He kissed me as he slowly lowered me down onto him.

"Oh God." I choked out. I gripped the headboard next to his head and whimpered loudly as he filled me up further than ever before. His hands gripped my hips and he guided me up and down.

"Oh, oh, Christophe." I moaned desperately. He just groaned in response, his eyes fixed on my naked body.

"You look good like this." He growled. He leaned forward and sucked on one of my nipples, his hands still guiding me up and down over him. I moaned like a woman as he pushed me down onto him and I felt him so incredibly deep inside me that I nearly sobbed with pleasure. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the headboard harder and harder, pushing back down harder onto him.

Suddenly his hand was on my erection, fingertips gliding over it softly. I whimpered and threw my head back, grinding down hard. He lay back against the headrest, just letting me work myself up and down in his lap. He bit his lip and had his eyes squeezed closed.

I loved this kind of control over him and I clenched around him and pushed down harder. He panted loudly and a bead of sweat slid down his face.

"Damn Gregory." He growled. His grunts became louder and suddenly he gripped my erection harder. I made a hard chocking sound. Pleasure rushed over me and I whimpered loudly as I slammed my hips down. Christophe grunted loudly and swore in French and I knew he was coming. His hand moved fast over me and I moaned loudly and desperately as I followed him, ejaculating all over my stomach. I stopped moving, exhausted from the whole day and the exercise. I dropped my head onto his shoulder and he stroke my back and my shoulders.

He pushed me down onto the bed and took me into his arms. I was sticky and sweaty all over and wanted to bathe again but he pulled me close, not paying any attention to our dirty state.

He softly stroke my cheek.

"Not going to slap me again?" I murmured in his chest, he chuckled.

"No." He stroke me some more. "I'm sorry about that." He murmured.

"It's okay."

"I'm just not really good at showing emotions like, like-." Like love? But I didn't dare to ask.

"I know."

"And when I heard you would probably return today and when that storm came up..."

"I know. But I'm safe now."

"Yes, you are." He pulled me even closer and we wrapped ourselves around the other. Yes, for then I was safe.

**Can you recognize the people Gregory met at that party? I'm sure you can...**

**TBC...**


End file.
